Rules Are Meant to Be Broken/Four
"When I was eight moons old, my mother had another litter of kits. Coldkit, Quailkit, Spiderkit, and Larchkit were the names of my new siblings, and they all looked different, but where they lacked similarities in appearance, they made up for in similarity of personality. Suffice to say, they were the opposite of me. ○ It was the most frigid of leaf-bares, so naturally, Coldkit found joy in prancing through the snow with his littermates. Quailkit was the runt of the group, and her tortoiseshell patterned legs could barely reach the ground through the tail-length of snow accumulated around the camp. Spiderkit was the complete opposite of her sister, the largest and possibly strongest of the group, with long legs that gave her her name. Larchkit was as average as Coldkit, but the toms were never close. Larchkit was planning on becoming a medicine cat apprentice, despite the fact that Mistyfur already had an apprentice. "I bet I can beat you to the fresh-kill pile," Spiderkit boasted as Coldkit skittered into the main clearing of camp, shaking snow and scraps of bark from his thick black pelt. "Can not!" he protested, purely for the sake of the argument. Spiderkit took a flying leap from the snow bank on which she stood, and landed lightly on the dusty ground of camp beside him. Coldkit stifled his impressed expression and kicked at the dust beneath his feet. As though ready to declare the ground unfit, he opened his mouth with an excuse, but Spiderkit beat him to the punch. "Ready? Set...go!" Coldkit scrambled around in the dirt before finding his bearings and launching himself forward, but Spiderkit was already half way to the pile and kicking up tremendous amounts of dust that were blocking his vision and half-blinding him. Spiderkit raced past the fresh-kill pile, and lurched into the nursery, where a resounding crash warned Coldkit to slow down. He could hear Hiddensun's voice inside, lecturing Spiderkit on the dangers of running full-tilt into a den full of kits younger than herself, and he slowed to a steady trot. He could hear his father's voice joining Hiddensun's, and then the softer lilt of his mother's, quiet amongst the yells, asking if Spiderkit could go get a piece of prey for her. Spiderkit scampered out of the den, oblivious to the yowls of the others, and began to rifle through the fresh-kill pile. Coldkit turned to assist her. "She said she wanted a vole," Spiderkit announced. Coldkit pawed aside a squirrel, tiny, beady eyes glazed in death, and it tumbled to the dusty camp floor, where dirt got tangled in its fluffy tail and coated its pelt. Coldkit pushed a paw deeper into the somewhat pitiful pile of prey, withdrawing what he hoped was a vole. He got a shrew instead, and tossed it over his right shoulder, where it joined the squirrel with a full coat of grime. "Ooh, look, this shrew looks angry," mewed Spiderkit loudly. With a malicious shimmer in her amber eyes, she tossed the piece of prey over to where her brother and sister were padding slowly towards the nursery. The shrew hit Larchkit full in the face, and he let out a squeak before leaping back in indignance. "He's coming to get you," Spiderkit crowed, bounding towards her brother. She picked up the shrew in her mouth and waved it in Larchkit's face. "See? He's angry, Larchkit!" When her brother showed no more expression, she whirled to Quailkit, who was tremblign in fright. Spiderkit grinned and chased Quailkit, whose stubby little legs could only carry her so far, with the shrew. Coldkit plucked a hare from the fresh-kill pile. It was a bit scrawny, but...he crept up behind Larchkit with the hare on his back and grabbed his brother's tail. Coldkit sank to the ground, and the hare completely obscured his small body. Larchkit let out a shriek and rocketed away towards the nursery, where Hiddensun proceeded to scold him as she had Spiderkit. Quailkit sank to her belly in fright. Spotting the last piece of prey, a shriveled old vole and the only vole on the pile, she picked it up in her jaws before her siblings could besmirch it. She scampered obediently into the nursery and deposited the prey at her mother's feet with a smile. "Thank you, Quailkit!" The tiny she-cat purred, finally glad to have triumphed over her siblings - and her happiness was only increased as she heard the raised voices of the deputy and Mistyfur outside in the main portion of camp. Poking her tiny tortoiseshell head out of the nursery, she saw Coldkit and Spiderkit standing, trembling, in the middle of a scattered pile of fresh-kill, all of which was covered in dust and dirt, or further mangled. Spiderkit was having the decency to look ashamed, while Coldkit seemed unabashed. "...Braveheart needs to get his strength back! How do you suppose he's going to do that with no prey?" exploded Mistyfur. "And Hiddensun's kits!" cried Eustar. "They'll have no milk!" "Prey is killed to be eaten," Mistyfur added. "Not to be played with. You've damaged our entire supply of prey. StarClan only knows how many cats would have been fed by all of that - and you just went and destroyed it! We'll all go hungry in the coming days. We might never find more prey, and it's only the beginning of leaf-bare. Now run back to your parents. They will deem a proper punishment." Sending them along with a foreboding glare, the kits slunk to their mother in well-deserved shame. ○ "Yes, that's what happens when you ruin prey, Tanglekit! Well, Aquakit, I'm glad that you decided to eat that hare last quarter-moon instead of chasing Nightkit with it. Yes, Ashkit, Mistykit, Wetstream will be taking this next one. Indeed, Rainkit. Indeed. Go on, Wetstream. Try and hold the attention of this lot."